


Spencer Reid x Reader booklet

by Epsilon_Eridani



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Anxiety, Drowning, F/M, Hands Like Houses, Hospitals, Macbeth - Freeform, Nightmares, Painting Flowers, Panic Attack, Shakespeare, Time In a Bottle, all time low - Freeform, idek, imagine dragons, jim croce, medical proxy, reader-chan - Freeform, sleepy, that Scottish play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epsilon_Eridani/pseuds/Epsilon_Eridani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Originally Painting Flowers)<br/>Requests open~!<br/>Spencer Reid x Reader inserts because everyone's favourite genius needs more love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Painting Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little thing.  
> I don't own Criminal Minds, All Time Low's music, or you.

~~~

Strange maze what is this place?  
I hear the voices over my shoulder  
Nothing's making sense at all

~~~

_~oOo~_

_"[Name]! Please!" Your little sister gasped, standing with a gun at her temple._

_"Alice baby you're gonna be alright," you assured her, pointing your own gun at the man who held her._

_"So your name is Alice? Like Alice in wonderland!" he laughed hysterically "Down the rabbit hole Alice!" with that he pulled the trigger before you could react and threw the bleeding body of your little sister towards you._

_~oOo~_

"Alice!" You gasp as you sit upright, sweat covering you in a thin layer, making your skin shine. You grumble and pass a hand over your face. Another one, another fucking nightmare about your sister.

You turn over and frown,  mumbling before standing up, clutching your pillow to your chest and shuffling out into the living room to find the person you're looking for. Your roommate Spencer Reid sits on the couch, a thick volume in his hand and the lamp on.

You continue to mumble under your breath as you flop down next to him, curling into the fetal position. He looks up and takes in your bedraggled appearance.

"Another one? Out of the eighty five percent of adults that have nightmares only five percent have them as frequent and as terrifying as you seem to," you roll your eyes and sit up.

"So you're saying I'm an abnormality?" you ask, a smile tugging at the edges of your lips when he flushes and begins to babble.

"N-no I was only saying-" you place a hand over his mouth and lean against him, placing your pillow in your lap and leaning against his side.

"What're you reading?" you murmur, looking over at the text.

"Shakespeare" comes the muffled answer from under your hand. You remove your hand and lay back down, throwing your legs over his lap and placing your pillow back under your head.

"Alice loved Shakespeare" you whisper, toying with your hands.

"Is that what the nightmares are about? Alice?" Reid questions, laying his book down and ignoring the blush threatening to rise up because of your legs over his lap.

"Yeah… I just feel like- what if we had gotten there earlier? What if I had shot him before he grabbed her? It's my fault she's gone and she was the only family I had left" you whisper, placing your shaking hands over your face and letting the warm tears course down your face.

"[Name], what happened, happened and even though I didn't know her too well I'm sure that Alice wouldn't want you to feel this much guilt over what happened" you remove your hands from your face gingerly and look up at Reid through salt tipped lashes.

"Still…" you murmur, voice cracking from the tears. Reid pulls you upright and wipes any traces of salt water off your face and gives you a brief hug.

You settle down next to him and lean against him once more.

"Will you read to me?" you whisper, Reid looks a bit hesitant but clears his throat and begins reading.

"She would have died thereafter, there would have been a time for such a word, tomorrow and tomorrow creeps at this petty pace from day to day. Out, out brief candle life's but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage. It is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury yet signifying nothing….." when Reid glances over at you, you're sound asleep, your face peaceful as he picks you up and takes you to your room. When he moves to leave you catch his sleeve in your hand. He looks back to see tired, scared, [Eye Colour] irises peering back at him.

"Spence, will you stay with me? In case they come back…" He nods and toes off his shoes before laying down next to you, tensing when you snuggle into him, a blush spreads across his face but he places an arm around your waist.

"Go to sleep [Name]" he breathes and you do so, drifting off into the darkness with one last thought.

'Maybe Spencer can help me let Alice go….'

~~~

When I wake up, the dream isn't done  
I wanna to see your face and  know I've made it home  
If nothing is true what more can I do?  
I am still painting flowers for you

~~~


	2. This Ain't No Place for Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~~  
> The surgeons pick, they pick at my body.  
> Their fingers dance, they dance all around me.  
> Hold still while they pick at my body.  
> They’ll dance all around me.  
> ~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Criminal Minds, you, or Hands Like Houses' song This Ain't No Place for Animals, which can be found HERE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yB4viq204Ik  
> Requests are open if you want a certain song and/or scenario.

 

~~~

The gasoline is mixing with the oxygen.  
In this carousel, the silence is so surreal.   
I’ve been misled down empty streets to a heart that never beats  
Of a body that I can’t keep.

~~~    

 

While working on the final report of their last case, Reid's phone rings, startling him out of his trance-like state of working. He pulls his phone out and looks down to see an unrecognized number.

"Hello?" He speaks into the phone, an unknown voice answers back.

"Is this Dr. Spencer Reid, [Your Name] [Last Name]'s medical proxy?" his breath hitches.

"Yes this is, what's happened?" he waves off Morgan's stare and presses the phone closer.

"Miss [Last Name] was involved in a shooting in Dallas last night and was shot seventeen times, she refuses surgery but we've deemed she is mentally compromised." the news hits Spencer like a brick wall.

"Sir? How soon can you be to Dallas?" he licks his lips and makes some calculations.

"I'll be there by tomorrow morning. Thank you" he hangs up and heads to Hotch's office.

"[Your Name] got herself shot in while working undercover in Dallas, she was shot _seventeen_ times and she's refusing surgery. They've deemed her mentally compromised so they've called me in because I'm her medical proxy"  Hotch raises an eyebrow.

"Hasn't she been undercover for over two years?"

"Yeah, she told me last time we spoke that she was finally coming back in two months and now she's gone and got herself shot. I have to go to Dallas" Hotch nods and dismisses him.

"Boy wonder, bring [Nick Name] home safe" Garcia, who had tapped his phone line and heard the conversation, calls while he leaves.

"I will"

 

~~~  
  
We’re blessed with these, these horrors for highways.  
This city turns, no longer content to just brush shoulders.  
Have we lost our touch?

~~~

 

"Dr. Reid? I’m nurse Abigail, we spoke on the phone " a blonde nurse greets him when he walks into the hospital .

"Hi, can I go see [Your Name]?" he goes straight to business, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Of course, but I'll have to warn you, she hasn't been responsive for the past hour and we think the bullets pierced her internal organs." They walk quickly through the intensive care ward.

"What's the layout of her wounds?" Spencer asks, swallowing and licking his lips.

"She was shot twelve times on the left side of her torso, twice in her left thigh, once through her right hip, completely shattering the bone. And she has two bullets lodged in her shoulder that we think it's best to leave alone if she wants mobility on her left side  

"We're not sure about much, only that if she's to live, she needs intensive repair surgery" Reid finds it hard to swallow the lump in his throat when he walks into your room, he sees you lying on the bed. Your torso is completely cover in white gauze flecked with pink slowly turning red; your face is bruised and bottom lip split open. There's a man standing next to you, Spencer realizes  that it's Scotty, your partner on this undercover mission.

"Spen….cer?" you mumble, your voice cracking and bruised eyes opening. Scotty stands and leaves, patting Spencer on the shoulder. He swallows and sits next to you in the hard plastic hospital chair, taking your pale, scratched hand in both of his and gently squeezing it.

"You look like hell" you cough into your hand, smearing blood on your upturned hand. Spencer chuckles lightly.

"You're one to talk, you look like you got shot sixteen times."

"Seventeen" you correct, wincing when you try to sit up; Spencer shoots up out of his chair and pushes you back down.

~~~  
  
A light goes on.  
We throw our blankets aside.  
And it’s been hours now and we still know nothing.

~~~

"Hey, hey just relax" he murmurs while you go into another coughing fit.

"How're you feeling?" he asks, moving towards the table next to the bed, he tries to keep his hands from shaking while he pours you a glass of water.

"I feel like I look, complete and utter shit-" you nod your thanks and take a sip from the cup that Spencer hands you before continuing. "-I'm bleeding internally and it's _hell_ I though being shot _once_ hurt, now I look like Swiss cheese" Spencer holds back a groan, even when you're dying, you still have the worst sense of humor _ever._

"They deemed you mentally compromised and called me in because I'm your medical proxy" you nearly choke when he says this, coughing, you turn to him and glare through watery eyes.

"Why the _hell_ would they think that I'm mentally compromised because I don't want surgery? I _refuse_ to have them open me up and try, _try_ to fix the internal bleeding." Spencer avoids your eyes and takes the empty paper cup from you, throwing it into the garbage can next to the door.

"There's more of a chance you'll survive if you do have surgery. I think it's the right choice."

~~~

The scars just don’t heal the same, when we collide.  
I’d never say that we step to the other side to keep us from brushing shoulders.  
But it’s collisions we need to remind us that we’re alive.

~~~

You look up at Spencer, feeling the effects of the anesthetic start to kick in, he holds your hand and keeps his whiskey coloured eyes on your drowsy, [Eye Colour] ones.

"I'm sorry" he whispers, you weakly squeeze his fingers.

"Don' be…." you slur, before finally giving into the velvety pull of sleep. They pull your bandages off and Spencer can see the full damage that the shooter did to you. Even with the stitches and surgery, you'll always have unsightly scars.

A surge of anger fills Spencer at the thought of someone hurting you this badly, and at Scotty for letting you get this hurt. Nurse Abigail ushers him into the viewing room where Scotty sits, head in his hands.

"What happened exactly?"  He asks, trying not to look at the sharp implements that were slowly cutting you open.

"She went out to go check on the female subject that we were protecting yesterday and the next thing I know I get a phone call from her and she's hysterical saying that someone just shot at them and [Your Name] jumped in front of her." Reid's experienced eyes sweep over Scotty's upset form.

"You and I both know even if you were there with her that she would have done the exact same thing, don't beat yourself up over it" Reid sits next to him and keeps his eyes on your pale, masklike face.

~~~

I’d never say that you make me sick, but you’re turning all the questions to cancers.  
Someone call in the emergency and we’ll peel back the dressings so we can see  
The kind of things that the surgeons see,   
When the bloodwork won’t give us the answers.  
They’ll never tell us, because they don’t know what's killing us.

~~~

Reid nods his thanks while he accepts the steaming paper cup of coffee that Scotty offers him.

"She's been in there for almost five hours," He murmurs, sitting back down next to Reid.

"They're almost done from what I can tell, they're just finishing sewing up her hip and then I think they're done." Spencer murmurs.

~~~

The surgeons pick, they pick at my body.  
Their fingers dance, they dance all around me.  
Hold still while they pick at my body.  
They’ll dance all around me.

~~~

You wake up back in your room with a weight on your hand. You blink bring your other hand to your face to rub the sleep from your eyes, wincing when your stitches pull. You then glance down to see Spencer asleep next to you, leaning on his arms.

"Spence, wake up" you murmur, brushing a hand through his hair, he inhales deeply through his nose and you get a glimpse of his sleepy whisky eyes.

"Morning sleeping beauty" you hum, continuing to card your hand through his hair until he sits up.

"How long?" you ask, turning your head towards Spencer.

"I'm sorry?" he asks still have asleep, trying not to look at your wounds.

"How long have you been using?" you look him straight in the eyes, not backing down.

"Reid, I know the signs, I've used before and I know that you're using. You're scratching your arm and wearing long sleeves even though it's the middle of fucking August. Spence, I'm not going to judge you for doing it, but you need to trust me." You grab his hand and yank his sleeve up, revealing numerous puncture wounds that were undoubtedly made by a needle.

"Look-" you pull up your own sleeve, showing him matching scars on the inside of your right forearm. "They're the same"  you murmur, making his fingers trace your upraised scars.

"What did you use?" he asks, sitting down next to you, his fingers still tracing your scars lightly.

"Horse and Coke mostly, I used E a few times but I stopped after I nearly died." You bring his arm up and gently kiss the scabbed over wounds. You hear his breath hitch but don't stop what you're doing.

"I know it's hard, and I know you feel like it's going to last forever, but you _can_ overcome this. I did and so can you." you murmur against his skin. He gently brings you into his arms and hugs you.

"Let's go home, kay?" you murmur, hugging him back.

"Yeah."  

~~~

Breathe your anesthetic words to slow us down.  
Tear back the skin to find, to chase a pulse back home.

~~~

 


	3. Time In a Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it would happen like this, of all the scenarios in your mind, this, him lying on a gurney most likely dying was never one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from DrapperSky ^_^ hope you enjoy <3 I don't own Criminal Minds, you or the song Time In A Bottle by Jim Croce   
> Requests are open!~

~~~

If I could save time in a bottle  
The first thing that I'd like to do  
Is to save every day till eternity passes away  
Just to spend them with you

~~~

"Morgan,  you and Prentiss go through the back. Rossi and I will take the front; Reid, you and [Last Name] take either side." you all nod in affirmation and get into position. You make faces at Reid as the two of you part ways.

You're the newest team member, you've already been with the team for two years and you've gotten quite close to the shy genius of the team. No matter how Morgan teases the two of you, you've told yourself that you're never going to tell Reid of your growing feelings for him because he probably doesn't feel the same and that would make work a tense place. You can't afford to make things strained between you and your team mates.

"Reid, [Last Name] go in" Hotch's voice crackles through your ear piece and you take a deep breath, quietly opening the floor to ceiling window and sliding into the hardwood floored room. You quickly scan the room, gun in front of you. When you see on sign of threats you cautiously make your way to the door and open it, seeing Morgan coming down the hall.

"Clear!" you call hearing Morgan and Prentiss call the same. You and Morgan share a look of concern when you don't hear Reid's voice.

"Reid?" you call softly, walking slowly towards the room he's most likely in. Morgan covers you while you bump the door open with your shoulder. You blanche when you see the drops of blood on the floor and streaks of blood indicating someone was dragged.

~~~

If I could make days last forever   
If words could make wishes come true  
I'd save every day like a treasure and then  
Again, I would spend them with you

~~~

"Have a medic standby" you choke our and follow the drag marks to the large window identical to the one you climbed through. You and Morgan cautiously climb through it and make your way towards the rustling bushes in the rear.

"FBI! Put your hands up!" Morgan shouts, the Unsub slowly stands, his hands and mouth covered in blood, making your stomach churn. He grins before taking off, Morgan hot on his tail. You on the other hand rush to the bushes and almost retch at the sight of a blood covered Spencer lying on the ground groaning in pain.

"We need a medic in the back now!" you gasp into your ear piece before dropping to your knees and touching Spencer's face gently.

"Spence, can you open your eyes for me?" you murmur, keeping your voice even while he slowly opens his eyes.

"Hey, welcome back Spence" you breathe , putting pressure on what seems to be the worst wound: a seven inch gaping hole in his chest."

"[Name]?" he groans, you wince but keeps pressure on the wound.

"Agent, I need you to step aside when I say to" you nod and get ready.

"And..... now" the medic replaces your bloody hands with a pressure pad and they lift Spencer into the gurney  with you walking alongside, holding Spencer's hand.

~~~

But there never seems to be enough time  
To do the things you want to do, once you find them  
I've looked around enough to know  
That you're the one I want to go through time with

~~~

"I'm going with him." you state shortly to Hotch before climbing into the ambulance and taking Spencer's hand again.

"[Name]?" he slurs, wincing slightly when an IV is placed into his arm, he turns to you, his fingers weakly squeezing your own.

"Keep him talking," the EMT whispers while holding the pressure pad in place.

"Yeah Spence, it's me" you hum, your other hand coming up to brush his unruly locks away from his eyes.

"W-where are we going?"  his eyes are half-lidded and he winces again when the ambulance jolts on uneven road.

"We're taking you to the hospital Spence, you're pretty beat up" you card a hand through his hair again and squeeze his hand gently, trying to keep your face calm.

"[Name], if I don't make it-"

"No" you state firmly, squeezing his hand tighter. "You're not leaving us, you _can't_ leave us."

"Let me finish" Spencer licks his lip, his eyes starting to droop.

"[Name], I love you. And I have for a long time. I'm sorry I never got up the courage to tell you before now." You never thought  it would happen like this, of all the scenarios in your mind, this, him lying on a gurney most likely dying was never one of them. Before you can say the words back he's being wheeled out of the ambulance and you're being led by a kind nurse to wash up and answer some questions.

"What's the patent's name?"

"Doctor Spencer Reid" you mumble, quietly scrubbing the crimson liquid from your hands, wincing at the stain.

"And what's your relation to the Doctor Reid?"

"I-I'm a colleague, we both work for the F.B.I" your breath starts to shorten, 'oh God, not now' you tell your anxiety but the old shortening of breath and tingly hands make their way into your system.

"I need to see your credentials" the nurse asks, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm S.S.A   [First Name] [Last Name]" you whisper, taking out your badge and showing her.

"Miss [Name], are you alright?" you shake your head and let the tears go, the anxiety attack coming into full swing.

"[Name]!" Derek, thank God, jogged over to you and gently turned you into his chest. You gasp and cry into his shirt. He takes you through the breathing exercises and soon you're able to breathe normally again.

"Sorry Derek" you mumble, pulling away.

"[Name], it's been at least six years since you've had an anxiety attack, don't apologize for something you can't control, you've been under a lot of stress lately and this was the straw the broke the camel's back" he sat you down and finished filling the nurse in on Reid's information.

"You're not going to tell Hotch are you?" you murmur, rubbing your hands down your thighs, worried.

"[Name], you know I have to." you groan and bury your face in your hands.

"What's going on with Reid?" Morgan asks, you straighten up and absentmindedly run your fingers across the fresh scars on your neck from a recent case.

"They took him straight into surgery, from what I saw it's going to be a long night." you bury your head in your hands again. Derek sighs and runs a hand down his face before putting an arm around your shoulders.

~~~

If I had a box just for wishes   
And dreams that had never come true  
The box would be empty, except for the memory of how  
They were answered by you

~~~

"Spencer Reid?" the nurse calls, you and the rest of the team stand and walk to her.

"How is he?" Hotch asks, a rare display of emotion splayed across his face.

"He pulled through surgery with no complications; he's asleep now but you can go see him for a little while." You all quickly find the room he's in and quickly file in, Prentiss and JJ taking the chairs next to him. You make it to the doorway before you stop, panic rising within you again.

"[Name], can I speak to you outside?" you follow Hotch outside the room.

"Hotch, I-"

"Morgan already told me what happened" Hotch cuts you off. "We both know that this is the first time that your anxiety has ever appeared during a case and Morgan tells me that this is the first panic attack you've had in six years. I'm going to overlook this one time because you've been under a lot of stress since you were attacked when we were in Georgia and this snapped your string. If I see your anxiety becomes a problem I will inform you but as of right now, you seem to be fine" you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank you sir" you give him a pained smile and JJ sticks her head out of the door.

"[Name], we're all going to get some coffee, Spencer's awake and asking for you" you bite your lip and nod, making your way into the room, taking JJ's spot next to Spencer, taking his hand in yours.

"Hey" he smiles, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. You smile softly but avoid his eyes.

"[Name], look at me" Spencer reaches across with his other hand and gently grabs your chin, pushing your head up to look him in the eyes.

"I meant what I said earlier" he says, his brown eyes boring into yours.

"I know" you whisper, reaching up to stroke his hair out of his face.

"And?" he asks nervously, you smile and peck him on the lips.

"I love you too" you whisper before he pulls you in for another kiss. You giggle and leave feather light kisses across his face while he hums and closes his eyes in enjoyment.

"C'mere" he pulls you, protesting, into bed with him so that he could cuddle you to him, his head resting on your chest while you stroke a hand through his hair, humming softly.

When the team came back, they were met with the sight of the two of you contently entangled, smiles on your sleeping faces.

~~~

But there never seems to be enough time  
To do the things you want to do, once you find them  
I've looked around enough to know  
That you're the one I want to go through time with

~~~


	4. Three Cheers for Five Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You will always be okay in the end, if you're not okay, then it's not the end" ~ John Lennon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request for DrapperSky, my muse, thank you <3 I don't own Criminal Minds, you or the song Three Cheers for Five Years by Mayday Parade. GOD this piece ended up SOOOO much sadder than planned but you know that's what happens. STAY IN SCHOOL KIDS

~~~

And I swear that you don't have to go  
I thought we could wait for the fireworks   
I thought we could wait for the snow  
To wash over Georgia to kill the hurt

~~~

"You okay Spence?" Spencer breaks out of his reverie to see you giving him a soft, concerned look from where you were debating serial killers with Morgan.

"Yeah, I'm fine" he mumbles and goes back to staring out the window, not noticing the hurt flash across your face before your features relax into  schooled look of neutrality.

"How is Cullen better than Gacy?" Your attention is brought back to Morgan and his smug smile.

"Cullen had  higher body count and a longer killing span than Gacy. He's one of the most prolific serial killers in American history." you counter, tucking your legs up under you and taking a sip of your tea.

"So what, Cullen had a higher body count and a longer span. Gacy instilled more terror in a shorter time period than Cullen did." Morgan argues back good-naturedly.

"Cullen flew under the radar for so long, he had more skill and cunning than brute force like Gacy did." Spencer piped up, still looking out the window.

"Ha! Even Reid agrees Morgan!" you gloat, teasingly jabbing Morgan in the ribs.

"Actually, Edward Gein had the most books and movies inspired by his life." Spencer straightens up at Morgan's teasing look, but when he glances back at you your look is warm.

"Right, Silence of the Lambs, Psycho, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre" you nod.

"A-actually, Silence of the Lambs was about Jeffery Dahmer" Spencer licks his lips, looking down.

"Yep! Just testing you!" you laugh, gently placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently before moving to place your empty cup in the sink.

"Are you sure you're okay, Reid? You look exhausted." you ask again, but much more quietly while sliding into the seat next to him.

"I'm fine, I just haven't been sleeping well is all." Spencer lies smoothly, wincing inwardly at lying to you. You frown.

"But-"

"Just drop it, okay?" he all but snaps, your eyes widen slightly but then you regain your cool composure.

"Sorry, I just worry, you know? You guys are the closest thing to family I have out here." You squeeze his hand and stand, moving to it by JJ and place your headphone in your ears. Spencer passes a hand down his face and puts his book away; he curls up and shuts his eyes. 

But sleep won't come. With a silent groan, Spencer sits up, he scans the rest of the team. Everyone asleep but Gideon.

"Can't sleep?" he asks, smiling softly at Reid.

"I have no idea why I can't sleep" he murmurs, rubbing his burning eyes.

"Spencer, you know that [Name] is just worried about you. We all are" he continues, glancing over to where you're asleep against JJ's shoulder.

"I know, I just feel like she tries to baby me, even though I'm six months older than her." Spencer whispers, looking over at you with a small smile full of fondness.

"She's the middle child, and only girl, of eight children. She's strong and protective. She sees you as someone she needs to protect. While she is timid, she can be fierce. The two of you balance each other out. That's why I brought the two of you together. Why settle for one genius when you can have two?" Spencer's smile widens before a yawn takes over yawn takes over.

"Try to get some sleep" Gideon urges and Spencer nods, his eyes sliding shut. But the urge couldn't be kept at bay any long. The aching, the want, the _need_ fills him and keeps tormenting his mind. He shifts, opening his eyes to find even Gideon asleep.  Reid clenches his hand and digs his nails into his lower forearm.

'no, not happening' he thinks grimly 'only half an hour until we're back and then I'm home' he clenches and unclenches his hand around his arm, fingernails drawing blood.

~~~

I thought I could live in your arms  
And spend every moment I had with you  
Stay up all night with the stars  
Confess all the faith that I had in you (I had in you)

~~~

When Reid finally makes it home, he toes off his shoes, sloppily placing them by the door and walks toward his bedroom, rolling up his sleeves and pulling open his desk drawer. He removes a small vial of Dilaudid and a hypodermic syringe. With shaking hands, Reid carefully withdraws a dose before sitting down and sliding the needle into the skin below the crook of his elbow, then he slowly depresses the plunger.

Spencer exhales deeply before he's thrown into another memory  

~~~

Too late, I'm sure and lonely  
Cause it's another night, another dream wasted on you  
Just be here now, against me  
You know the words, so sing along for me, baby

~~~

_Spencer was sitting in the park, playing chess when he noticed a very pretty [h/c] girl sitting by herself with a book in her lap, tears streaming down her [s/c] face._

_"Is she okay?" He asked, some of the people watching him looked over and smiled._

_"That's just [Name], she gets pretty emotionally involved in her books. Don't worry about her, she's fine" the nineteen year old Psych student with pink hair across the board from him smiled reassuringly._

_"Check in two" she smirked, Spencer gave her a small smile before he slid his Rook across the board._

_"Checkmate" she slumped back. Spencer gave her an encouraging smile and began to clean up the board, intent on going home._

_"Are you up for one more game?" a soft voice made him stop and look up. With tear stains that she hadn't bothered to wipe away streaking her face, she gave a timid smile and sat across from Spencer._

_"What's your name?" he asked, already knowing the answer, but asking anyway._

_"[Name], and you're Spencer Reid, right?" she inquired softly, keeping her [e/c] eyes locked on his._

_"Right" he smiled and began setting up the chess board. She grabbed the black pieces and quietly set them into place._

_She played chess well, almost beating him but he pulled a out a very close win.  She smiled good-naturedly and helped him pack up the board. By then most of the people that had been watching them had left or the rest wandered off._

_"Great game, that's the first time in a long while that I've had a good game or that I've lost" [Name] smiled at Spencer and stood. She gave another smile before picking up her book and walking away._

Reid groans before he slips into another dream-like state, a different memory taking the one before it's place.

~~~

For heaven's sake I know you're sorry  
But you won't stop crying  
This anniversary may never be the same

~~~

_"Spencer, this is [Name] [Last Name], [Name], this is-"_

_"Spencer Reid, good to see you again" you smiled gently at Reid, waving to him._

_"Likewise"_

_"You've already met?" Gideon asked, surprised._

_"We've met once, he's quite the chess player." Reid smiled at you taking in your features more thoroughly this time._

_Your [e/c] gaze is kept toward the floor, your glossy bangs falling over your eyes. You glanced up shyly at Spencer, a small smile played on your lips. He thinks you're utterly beautiful, the kind of beauty that shines from the inside out._

_"Well let's meet the rest of team, shall we?"_

~~~

For heaven's sake I know you're sorry  
But you won't stop crying  
This anniversary may never be the same

~~~

The next day at work you completely ignore Spencer, working quietly and efficiently on the piles of papers littering your usually clean desk.

"What's wrong [Name]?" he asks when he passes you hunched over in the hallway, you glance over at him and he can see the restrained tears in your eyes.

"Nothing" even with tears threatening to overflow you still have an even voice.

"[Name]-" you jump up, grabbing your bag, you flee to Garcia's lair, your footsteps echoing down the halls. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, debating whether or not to follow you when Morgan walks up.

"You look like you're having lady troubles Pretty Boy" He teases, placing a hand on Reid's shoulder.

"Do you know what's gotten into [Name] today? She's been ignoring me all day and she just stormed off, almost in tears, to Garcia" Morgan lets out a loud laugh.

"Well that's pretty close to the way you've been recently, but she's not standoffish and snappy." his teasing drops and his face becomes serious "Today's her brother's birthday and he wants nothing to do with her." Reid feels like slapping himself, how could he forget? But he's been in pretty deep recently.

"D'you think she'd want to talk about it?" He asks, licking his lips.

"You just let her know you're there for her no matter what. She'll appreciate that." Morgan gives him a friendly pat on the back before walking down the hall when Gideon calls. Reid moves down the hall towards Garcia's office and knocks on the doorframe, seeing you sitting with Garcia sipping your tea.

"[Name], can I talk to you?" he asks, you quietly stand and give Garcia a smile.

"What's up?" you stand in front of him, sipping from your mug.

"I just wanted you to know if you want to talk, I'm here" you give a sort of choke and begin coughing up tea.

"Me? If I want to talk?! Spencer I should be telling you that." you growl, he flushes and opens his mouth before you clamp a hand over it.

"Kay, one sec" you grab his tie and lead him into the break room before calling Morgan over.

"Can you watch the door? Reid and I need to have a chat" he nods and you thank him before shutting the door and sitting next to Reid.

~~~

Inside I hope you know I'm dying  
With my heart beside me  
In shattered pieces that may never be replaced  
And if I died right now you'd never be the same

~~~

"Spence, you know you can tell me anything." you promise, leaning you head on his shoulder.

So he does.

He tells you about his addiction. He tells you how much he hates himself. He tells you about the dreams, about his mother, how he's afraid that everyone will be disappointed in him, that you'll leave him, and about his thoughts of suicide.

"I just feel like there's no reason to go on" he chokes. You slide your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder, cooing softly to sooth him. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you as close as physically possible. Right now he's in desperate need of comfort and you're willing to give it to him. You just hold him while he cries, for everything; for his mom, himself, and for you even.

"Hey, hey. It'll be okay" you whisper, rubbing his back before pulling away and wiping tears from his face, you hold his face between your hands, rubbing slow circles across his cheekbones.

"D'you remember what I told you when I got hurt?" he nods, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You will always be okay in the end, if you're not okay, then it's not the end" he recites and your smile, planting a kiss on his forehead.

"John Lennon" you add, giving him one last hug before standing up.

"Spencer, I'm going to help you through this, I will _never_ leave you, unless you want me to, understand? I care too much about you to ever leave you. We all do, and frankly I'd never be the same if you left" you pull him up, wiping the last traces of salt water off his face before turning to the door.

"[Name]-" Spencer grabs your arm and spins you around.

"Yeah?" you reply, a small smile playing across your face when he pulls you closer. He leans down, giving you an inch or so of space between your lips, he's giving you an out if you want it. But you grab his tie to bring him down to you, your lips meeting his salty ones. It's a chaste kiss, almost a peck but it holds all of both of your emotions.

"Thank you" he breathes, you smiles and kiss him again.

"Anytime Spence, anytime"

~~~

And I will always remember you as you are right now to me   
And I will always remember you, remember you

~~~


	5. My Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems you and Spencer are drifting apart due to work differences... When you come to be a part of their case, something happens that leaves both of you willing for second chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authoress' Note: So I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again, end of year shit is really bringing me to the end of my rope over here.... but I hope you enjoy! Thanks to my muse DrapperSky <333  
> I don't own Criminal Minds, you, or Imagine Dragons' song 'My Fault'

~~~

I took a walk on a Saturday night  
Fog in the air   
Just to make my mind seem clear  
Where do I go from here?

~~~

Reid lets out a frustrated sigh to a hotel room empty other than himself. Usually when he sounds that sigh you're there to sooth him. But your job as a Forensic Psychologist has been sending you out to remote locations to conduct inspections of crime scenes; while  you're in London, right now the BAU team is in San Diego for a strange case.

When Reid's mobile sounds, he breaks out of his haze and picks up his phone, he glances at the time to see it's a little past two AM . There's only one person who'd call him this late.

"Hello?" he murmurs into the phone.

"Hey" you reply softly, a smile evident in your tone.  A tender smile of his own spreads across his face.

"How's your case going?" he asks, pushing his notes away and rubbing his eyes.

"We finished up here a few hours ago, Emily says hi by the way. I'm being sent out with Scotty your direction for another case. I'm in the airport now" Spencer could picture you curled up on a bench at the airport.

"What's going on there?" you question softly, able to pick up on his nonverbal queues.

"So our Unsub's been abducting women in their mid twenties to early thirties. He holds them for twenty-four hours before burying them up to their neck in sand when the tide is out. When the tide comes in, they drown. There's no sign of sexual or physical assault." he hears your intake of breath and the hurried flipping of pages.

"Look at the case similar to that in LA around ten years ago. It might be the same Unsub-" you're cut off by the overhead speaker "now boarding London to Los Angeles"

"I've gotta go, we're boarding now" your voice is soft.

"Okay, stay safe" Spencer states gently.

"Always. I love you" you breathe out, as if you don't want anyone else but him to hear it

"I love you too" he smiles to himself.

"Goodbye love, get some sleep" you part with those words. Spencer hangs up and begins searching for the case files you told him about. Soon he's hunched over  them but his vision is so blurry that he can't focus on the pages.  He re-reads the same sentence for the fifth time before he decides to take a walk. Because after all, the only good genius is a functioning one.

~~~

I see my breath pushing stream through the air  
Shaking hands run through my hair  
My fears, where do I go from here?

~~~

Spencer takes a deep breath of fresh air and slowly exhales, his breath coming out in a white puff. San Diego in December, at night, gets pretty cold. He looks down to find his hands are shaking, he realizes that it's because you're coming this way. He's scared. Not scared, he's _terrified_ that with you'll end up a victim, you fit the victimology.

 He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to get them to stop shaking. You were strong and capable, that's one of the things he loves most about you is your capability to keep a level head in every situation. You say you got that from being a bomb tech for twelve years before an injury took you out of that field.

He finishes his walk and goes back to his room, intent on getting some sleep before he has to give the profile tomorrow morning. He takes of his glasses and sets them on the table before sliding between the sheets, instantly missing the warmth that you provide most nights. He drifts away into a dreamless state where everything's black.

~~~

Is it my fault, is it my fault?  
We've been missing each other  
We've been missing each other  
My fault, is it my fault?  
We've been missing each other  
We've been missing each other

~~~

Reid rubs his eyes, feeling a headache coming on while he examines the pictures of the victims on the board.

"Now that everyone's here, I have some news" Reid looks over to Hotch, who's standing in the middle of the room, the team gathered around him.

"We have a specialist coming in for this case, she's currently traveling here from LA. She was a consult on a case similar to this one almost ten years ago. She's a forensic psychologist whose specialty is perishable crime scenes." Reid's eyes grow wide.

"[Name] [Last Name]?" he asks, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. Hotch nods, looking sharply at Reid.

"Do you know her?" he swallows, knowing he can't get out of this situation.

"W-we were friends in college" he says, wincing slightly. Well, it's not a lie, college was where you met. Reid lets out a mental sigh of relief that he doesn't have to explain further when the lead detective knocks on the doorframe and leans into the room.

"We've got another body." Reid wants to scream, this isn't fair! You hadn't told him that you were coming to consult on the case.

"Reid, let's go" Morgan calls, Reid comes out of his reverie and follows them out to the SUV. They drive to a nearby beach to find the body of a younger victim. Reid puts his gloves on and begins examine the body washed out of the sand by the tide. This victim looks to be late teens early twenties. The same build as all the other victims.

"They're getting younger" he states, looking up grimly at Hotch who has a similar expression.

"I'll have [ Last Name] meet us down here" He says and goes off to make the phone call.

"So, who's this [Last Name]? Why didn't you tell me about her?" Morgan teases. Reid just rolls his eyes.

"Because, Morgan, there's nothing to be told. We went to school together. She'd beat up kids who picked on me. We became friends because we're similar." Morgan snorts, clapping Spencer on the back.

"Well she's sounds real nice, man. Wasn't she on bomb squad for like twelve years? Why'd she switch to forensic psychology?"

"She was originally going into forensic psychology but she was drafted onto the Seattle bomb squad and she fell in love with the work. Eight months ago she had a flash bang bomb go off and dislodge a cinderblock onto her hip. It fractured her hip and now she's working where she originally planned on working" Morgan nods and goes to move the woman's body.

"Don't. Don't touch or move anything until [Name] gets here, she'll want as fresh scene as possible" Morgan retracts his hand and goes to stand next to JJ. Hotch affirms something to who he's talking to on the phone and hangs up.

"It'll be a half hour until [Name] gets here. Reid, you and JJ stay here and gather what you can about this victim's death, Morgan, Dave, and I will go back to the station to try to identify this victim" Reid nods quietly and resumes inspecting the body, careful not to touch anything.

"Reid, why haven't you told me about [Last Name]?" JJ asks, Spencer huffs quietly.

"There's nothing to tell JJ, she and I were friends a long time ago. I haven't seen her in years." he retorts shortly, checking the victim's scalp for lacerations.

"Spence, you said she used to beat up people who picked on you. Friends like that don't just fall out of touch. And she lives in DC, you guys still _are_ in touch, aren't you?" He nods slowly, not quite sure if he should say anything more to JJ.

"Please tell me you haven't touched anything." you call, lugging your equipment towards the beach, your protégé Scotty in tow, your limp prominent as usual.

"Ah, no we haven't. I'm Jennifer Jeroe. You can call me JJ" you smile and shake her hand.

"I'm [Name], but you most likely already know that. This is my assistant Scotty," you introduce before immediately moving into action. Pulling on your gloves, you crouch down next to the girl's body.

"How long has it been since they found her body?" you gently move her head to the side, checking her neck for any lacerations or marks.

"They think she's been dead for around eight hours. Some surfers came across her about four hours ago. " JJ reads off of the report that was given to her.

"Has CSI done their cataloguing yet?" and comes another question.

"I don't think so" you sigh, sitting back.

"Well I can't touch anything until they've done their cataloguing" you mumble under your breath, reaching up a hand to Scotty who pulls you off the ground. You smile and stand next to JJ, quietly conversing with her until about five minutes later when CSI shows up.

"Hey, hey Rick!" you wave to the leader of the CSI team. You seem to literally know everyone.

"[Name]" he greets kindly before going to work cataloguing the scene. It takes them around fifteen minutes, most of which you spend standing next to Reid.

"You're mad at me" you murmur, hating that he wasn't talking to you.

"A little, yeah" he snaps, looking over at you. "You lied to me, you said you were coming my way. You didn't say anything about consulting on the case." you bite your lip, looking over at him.

"I never lied to you, I just didn't tell you because I knew you'd overreact and I-"

"Overreact? [Name], this is the fifth body of a girl who has your body type and your age range. As long as you're here you're in danger" he exclaims, JJ looks over at the two of you but leaves you alone.

"And that's my choice, Spence, you can't control what I choose and I know even though you want me to be safe, I have to keep consulting, this is important to me too." you shoot back quietly, never one to make a scene.

"That doesn't make me worry any less" he mumbles, you smile and squeeze his hand, before stepping away and going back to examining the body.

"Scotty, get on this side and help me move her" you instruct, moving towards the body, but stopping and wincing, rubbing at your hip with an irritated look.

"It always has to act up at the worst times" you mutter, digging though your bag to pop a Vicodin.

"I thought you'd stopped taking the Vicodin?" Scotty asks, you shrug.

"My doctor got me a new prescription with a lower strength. It's still acting up" you murmur, wincing. 

"Scotty, get that side, I'll get this one" Reid instructs, and before you can protest they turn the body over. You murmur an irritated thanks and go to examine the woman's back.

"Has he been binding them around the middle?" you call, making Reid look back at you.

"Not that we know of, no" you point to the bruises around the girl's torso.

"She was bound around the middle. Could this be a copycat?" you squint up at Reid, slowly pulling yourself to your feet.

"I need to think" you murmur, limping to the shoreline, Spencer four steps behind you.

"Alone, Spence" you say gently.

~~~

Walking down to the water's edge  
Asking why I am here instead of home  
Now I stand alone

~~~

You exhale smoke, wrinkling your nose and putting out your cigarette.

"That's six minutes of your life you can't get back" Spencer's voice breaks in, you look up from where you're sitting, your bare feet buried in the sand at the very edge of the tide.

"Sorry" you smile sheepishly. Reid smiles and sits next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"I thought you quit?" he questions, you scoff softly.

"I did, but in London I needed something to distract me, I thought smoking was better than going back to something else" Spencer's grip on you tightens slightly and he kisses your hair, not caring if JJ saw. He was glad you decided not to go back to anything else destructive. You promised him you had thrown away all blades drugs and anything else that could potentially end your life.

"I'd rather have six less minutes of my life than use narcotics again" you mutter into Spencer's sweater.

"I wish you wouldn't feel the need to use anything" he whispers. You pull back and smile.

"Me too"  you stand and walk away, Spencer knowing not to follow you.

~~~

I stop to stare at the ocean side  
I'm breathing in just to fill inside  
With peace  
Like you were here with me

~~~

You scowl and rub your hip irritatedly, dammit! it never stops throbbing. You curse under your breath, you always downplay the severity of the pain in your hip. You look out over the water and suddenly a brilliant smile takes over your face, the pain forgotten.

"I haven't had a view like this for a long time" you say to yourself, and then you look back to see Reid conversing excitedly with Scotty.  An even bigger smile lights your face at the sight of your best friend and your boyfriend conversing together so easily.

You go to start walking toward them when you get hit  over the head, you fall and struggle to stand, your vision going blurry when someone picks you up. You find you can't move and the pain in your head is overwhelming. You black out.

~~~

Is it my fault, is it my fault?  
We've been missing each other  
We've been missing each other  
My fault, is it my fault?  
We've been missing each other  
We've been missing each other

~~~

Wet, wet and cold is how you wake up. You find that you're stuck in a sandy hole with sea water to your neck, just like the rest of the victims were and you start cursing.

"Spence!" you scream, hoping he can hear you from where you are.

"Spenc-" you choke on the sea water coming up to your chin. Coughing you force your chin up and take as deep breaths as you can with sand pressing on your chest.

"Spencer!" you cry. trying to unearth your arms. You choke another mouthful of salt water up while managing to pull your arms up. You begin frantically clawing the sand away from your legs and pull yourself out of the hole, crawling along the shore until you can stand and then you race across the shore to where your name is being called.

"Spencer" you cry when you see him, he turns to you and begins to sprint in your direction. You colide with him and wrap your arms around his waist.

~~~

Oh it's on the warmest night  
It' s in the brightest light  
It's when the world is moving  
Oh it's in the faintest cry  
It's in the lover's eye  
It's when I need you most  
And don't you know?

~~~

"Shhh, it's okay [Name]" Spencer murmurs, running fingers though your sodden hair.

"I-I'm sorry" you choke out, gripping the back of his shirt in your fists.

"It's okay, I'm sorry too, I should've tried harder" you sniff, pulling back to pull him down into a kiss.

"We both can try harder this time around" you whisper when you part, before kissing him again.

~~~

Is it my fault, is it my fault?  
We've been missing each other  
We've been missing each other  
My fault, is it my fault?  
We've been missing each other  
We've been missing each other

~~~


	6. HEY YALL

BET YALL NEVER THOUGHT THIS WOULD COME BACK

But really oh my goooooood you guyyyyyys 140 kudos and over 5000 hits is crazy, and it’s bad writing. I’ve really improved since 2015 I like to think. I’m hoping to get back into this, but they probably won’t be music one shots anymore, I really don’t have any good ideas or prompts right now. I’m also reviving my three elements series so a short one of those is coming soon! Anyone who has prompts drop them in the comments and I’ll see if I can get them done!

Thanks again so much for everything guys, it really means a lot.

xoxo

~Red


	7. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! This is finally coming out! So basically this collection will be updated at random (What’s new) and when I need a break from the actual story that I’m writing on here. Updates will be extremely slow and random.   
> Also, when I started writing this there were only like thirty-five Spencer Reid reader inserts on this website, now there are hundreds which I’m so happy about.  
> Thank you to The_Nerdy_Writer for the prompt!   
> Warning! There are many descriptions of physical and emotional abuse in this chapter, I don't think it's too graphic but still, please read with caution.

~~~

Sleep don't visit, so I choke on sun   
And the days blur into one   
And the backs of my eyes hum with things I've never done   
~~~

 

It has been a long time since you’ve been here in the city, almost fifteen years have passed since you’ve even come close to being here. It was painful and unfair, what happened to you. You were taken away from everything you’d known at such a young age. All the pain, and emptiness was taken away and replaced with instability. 

 

You sigh, looking up at the house in front of you. The pale yellow paint has taken on a moldy hue and is peeling all along the front of the house. It looks just as disgusting as last time you were here.

 

You press your palms over your eyes, trying not to remember the painful things that happened in this house. You’re here for closure, that’s it. Then you’re gone. But you can still hear everything shouted at you, and feel the pulsing from every smack from a hand or a belt, or a hit from a bottle. 

 

It doesn’t go away, even after the years upon years of counseling and therapy. You still flinch at everything, and any change in tone of voice reverts you to a nine-year-old again, apologizing and watery-eyed. 

 

It keeps you awake at night, not knowing how to deal with it no matter how hard you’ve tried. It makes you hurt inside. 

 

You dig the heels of your hands into your eye sockets, trying to rid your brain of the guilt. It doesn’t help, and nothing will.

 

~~~

Sheets are swaying from an old clothesline   
Like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass   
Was never much but we made the most   
Welcome home   
~~~

 

You take a deep breath before going to the back where you know the door will be open, if not completely rotted through. You weave between the sagging, yellowed sheets hanging from an almost disintegrated clothesline, nose crinkled from the smell of mold. Your throat is closing up at the dank smell, making your sensitive lungs start to wheeze. You know your body can’t handle being inside with such low-quality air for very long. 

 

You take a quick look around the kitchen. The same wooden table is still there, eaten by termites no doubt, but it’s still standing, somehow. You walk carefully into the living room, trying to avoid smashing cockroaches underfoot. 

 

Everything is the same, more decrepit but the same. It looks like how you felt for those first nine years of life. Peeling and dead, even smelly. It doesn’t ease the ache inside you. It doesn’t take the pain away from the beatings, the starvings, the emotional absence you’ve had your  _ entire  _ life because of trying to not show any reactions.

 

Crying was a ploy to make them feel guilty, in their words. Fighting back got more bruises and lacerations. It wasn’t worth it.

 

It takes a lot of courage for you to stride over the messy, yellowing carpet to the stairs at the back wall. The wood seems to still be able to support your weight, and you trod carefully up the stairs to the small cubby that you once called your room. The walls are still pink, and the mattress, if it can still be called that, is rotten all the way through. You can barely stand up straight without hitting your head on the slanted ceiling.

 

Your eyes are burning, and you don’t think it’s from the mold. You can still see the bloodstains on the mattress, and feel the burning down your back from the scars made by belts, bottles, and anything else that could break the skin. 

 

Your entire back is covered in thick, ropey scars, they create an almost beautiful pattern of pain on your skin. You hate them, yet you’re wearing a top that is almost completely backless today, determined to not let the scars take away your freedom of fashion.

 

~~~

Ships are launching from my chest   
Some have names but most do not   
If you find one, please let me know what piece I've lost   
Peel the scars from off my back   
I don't need them anymore   
You can throw them out or keep them in your mason jars   
I've come home

~~~

You’re coming out of the house when you see Spencer for the first time again, and it shakes you to the core. You both were so young, and you know that it hurt him to see you in pain. He was so intelligent and  _ understanding  _ of everything, he knew exactly what was happening to you before you told him. He knew and comforted you through everything.

He was the reason you didn’t ever run away. 

Now he’s tall, and standing in front of you. You can tell he’s just as nervous as you are. You continue your measured pace toward him, coming to a stop just a stride away.

“Hello, Spencer,” you greet, voice hoarse, and watery. He chokes out a wet laugh, and he presses his palms over his eyes. 

“Welcome home,” he whispers, and you laugh, just as wetly as he had. He tugs you forward, and his long arms wrap around you tightly, his hands splayed across your bare back warmly. Yours come up around his torso, holding him to you. You can’t help weeping, and you feel his lean body shake with tears as well.

“I missed you,  _ I missed you _ ,” you sniffle out over and over, him shushing you soothingly, letting you know that he’s  _ here  _ and he knows that it still  _ hurts _ . 

~~~

All my nightmares escaped my head   
Bar the door, please don't let them in   
You were never supposed to leave   
Now my head's splitting at the seams   
And I don't know if I can

~~~

 

He takes you to the hotel he’s staying at while visiting his mom, and the two of you don’t say anything. You sit next to each other on the bed, your head on his shoulder and your right hand lost in his left. The two of you don’t have to speak to know everything. You knew about his FBI career, seeing him on TV briefings every once in a while, while he had Garcia dig up your file. 

 

After being tossed into foster care at nine, you had bounced around from home to home, some loving and others far from it. But you persevered the best you could and came out of college two years ago with a degree in music therapy. 

Spencer thought he’d never see you again. The Child Services officer had taken you in the middle of the night. You didn’t show up for school the next day, and Spencer had assumed the worst. It took him a little time, but he was able to find out you had been taken by CPS into foster care because you had no other family. 

 

Seeing you now, it makes his heart want to both sing and drown. You look so strong, yet as he could tell, you still have the emotional immaturity of a nine-year-old. Your emotional growth was stunted from everything you had endured, and it broke him to see it. 

 

He wants to be there while you take care of yourself. He doesn’t want to leave you ever again, you’re someone who’s so dear to him, even after fifteen years apart. He never stopped thinking about you, never in his life was your door closed. 

 

He looks down at you, asleep against his side, the hand he isn’t hold curled against his chest, thumb moving in gentle swiping motions against his collarbone. He knows he can’t leave you, that he has to convince you to come back to Quantico with him, to find work in the area so he doesn’t have to leave you again. He can’t be without you any longer.

 

  
~~~

 

Here, beneath my lungs, I feel your thumbs press into my skin again

 

~~~


End file.
